Bad Guy
by Christine M. Greenleaf
Summary: Harley Quinn is attacked in her cell at Arkham Asylum. No one believes her when she says it was Batman, desperate to learn the Joker's location. But neither Harley nor Joker is going to take her abuse lying down.
1. Chapter 1

**Bad Guy**

"Quinn."

Harley opened her eyes in confusion, looking around the pitch-blackness of her cell for the source of the voice. She couldn't see anything lurking in the shadows and shrugged, assuming she'd just heard the voice in a dream. She shut her eyes again.

"Harley." No, that hadn't been a dream. She sat up suddenly as a black shape appeared from out of the darkness. A man in the shape of a bat.

"Oh, it's you," yawned Harley. "What're you doing here, Bats? Finally come to join the rest of the crazies in the asylum, have ya?"

"I'm looking for Joker," he replied.

"You and me both," retorted Harley, leaning back on her pillow. "Mr. J was meant to bust me outta this dump weeks ago. Dunno why he's taking his sweet time, but he'll do it. He's a guy who keeps his promises."

"I need to find him tonight," continued Batman. "He's got a bomb. It's going to go off and kill people. Hundreds of innocent people. I have to find him and stop him."

"Sounds like one of Mr. J's gags," yawned Harley again. "He's been busy – guess that's why he hasn't busted me out. But I wish he would hurry up and kill them so he can get back to his Harley girl. I'm bored of being in here."

"Harley, I need to know where he is," said Batman, firmly. "You know, don't you?"

Harley shrugged. "Yeah. But I ain't gonna tell you. I ain't a squealer, Bats. So why don't you beat it and let me get my beauty sleep? I get cranky if I don't get it."

"Harley, I need to know," he repeated. "I won't let those people die, and I am going to stop him, however it takes."

"Yeah?" retorted Harley. "Big words, Bats. How are you gonna do that, then?"

"I will make you talk," murmured Batman.

"That a threat, B-man?" demanded Harley. "Better not be. Nobody threatens me but Mr. J. Think I'm scared of you? What are you gonna do to me?"

"Something I really don't want to do," he said, quietly. "Please tell me, Harley. I promise I won't hurt Joker…"

"Yeah right," interrupted Harley. "You're always beating the crap outta him. It's like your favorite hobby. If you think I'm going to do anything that'll lead to Mr. J getting hurt, you don't know me very well, Bats. I'd die before I finked on him, you hear me?"

"Please don't make me do this, Harley," said Batman, softly. "This is your last chance. Tell me where he is."

Harley folded her arms across her chest. "Sorry, Bats, no dice," she retorted.

Batman nodded slowly. "I'm sorry too, Harley," he whispered.

He suddenly punched her across the face. It was completely unexpected and Harley was taken aback. She was even more taken aback when Batman gripped her around the throat with one hand and squeezed. "Tell me where he is!" he hissed.

Harley choked out a laugh. "Go on, Bats, do your worst! Mr. J's taught me to take a lotta pain!"

Batman dropped her to the ground. "If you don't talk, I'll make whatever Joker's done to you seem like a walk in the park!" he snapped. "Tell me, Harley! Please!"

There was a desperation in his please, and it amused Harley. She giggled, shaking her head. "Nah uh. C'mon, Bats, hit me again, just like a good guy should!"

Batman seized her around the throat again. "This isn't fun for me, Harley," he whispered. "This is hurting me more than you can possibly imagine. But I will do anything I have to to stop him. You understand that? Anything!"

She managed to shake her head again. "Nah. You won't kill me, Bats. And I'm betting I can take more pain than you can deal out. You can't be more brutal than Mr. J – he really enjoys this kinda stuff. And I can tell you don't. So go on, hit me until I pass out. My record's twenty minutes of constant violence – you wanna try to beat it?"

"Harley, please talk!" pleaded Batman. "Please!"

She giggled again. "If Mr. J were here, he'd laugh at that. The big, strong Batman, begging a woman! A worthless little blonde like me! I won't tell him – he might get jealous."

Batman dropped her again and began beating her. "Tell me where he is!" he shouted. "Tell me, Harley!"

Harley shut her eyes and tried to protect herself as much as she could. "I love you, Mr. J," she whispered, trying to ignore the pain as involuntary tears sprang to her eyes. "I love you."

"Harley!" came Poison Ivy's voice from the cell next door. "Harley, are you all right? What's going on in there?"

A plant suddenly burst through the wall separating the cells, followed closely by Poison Ivy, who froze in horror at the sight. Then she grew furious. "What the hell are you doing?!" she demanded, rushing at Batman. "Leave her alone!"

Batman threw her against the wall. "Stay out of this, Ivy!" he shouted. "I'm doing this because I don't have any other choice! I have to stop Joker or hundreds will die! Talk, Quinn! Please let me stop this!"

The damage to the cell had alerted the Arkham guards, who came rushing down the hall. "You want everyone to see the monster you've become?!" shouted Ivy, struggling to her feet. "Get outta here, Bats! Now!"

For whatever reason, Batman obeyed her, leaping to the window and disappearing into the night. Ivy knelt down beside Harley and cuddled her gently, shushing her, as Harley clutched her and sobbed, covered in cuts and brusies. That's how the Arkham guards found them. Of course they blamed the Joker. He was a bad guy, and beating up a helpless woman was something only a bad guy would do.


	2. Chapter 2

"It was Batman," said Harley, firmly.

The psychiatrist looked over the top of her glasses at the young woman covered in bandages lying on the sofa. "Batman?" she repeated. "You're accusing the hero of Gotham of attacking you and beating you to within an inch of your life?"

"You find that hard to believe?" snapped Harley. "He loves beating people up. Gets a real kick outta it. You should see him when he's pounding Mr. J – only time I've ever seen Bats smile. And like any fanatic, he'll do anything for his cause. He's so obsessed with his ideas about justice and heroism that he don't even notice he's hurting people anymore."

"Harley, I think you're confused," said the psychiatrist. "I think you are so blinded by your love for the Joker that when he does something to hurt you, you've actually replaced him with Batman in your mind. You just don't see the Joker hitting you, as he's literally become Batman."

"Whaddya think I am, crazy?!" snapped Harley. "It was Batman! I saw him and talked to him! And you think I can't tell the difference between his fist and Mr. J's fist?"

"As I said, I think you're confused," repeated the psychiatrist. "This is just one more instance of your obsession with the Joker harming your perceptions of reality and hampering your life…"

"It wasn't Mr. J!" interrupted Harley, furiously. "Ask Red! She saw Bats!"

"I'm not sure Miss Isley could be considered a reliable witness…" began the psychiatrist.

"Well, she sure as hell wouldn't defend Mr. J if he was the guy who beat me up!" retorted Harley. "She hates Mr. J! She ain't got no reason to lie about this, or to pretend she saw Batman because she's blinded by love or any of that crap! You ask Red! I won't be called a liar, and I won't be called crazy, when I ain't either!"

The psychiatrist stood up. "We'll resume this conversation in a couple days when you're feeling a bit better," she said, soothingly. "Why don't you just go have a nice, long rest in your cell now?"

Harley struggled to her feet. "Thought it was free time. I'm going to go to the rec room and talk to some people who believe what I say!"

And she stormed from the office and down the hall, wincing slightly. The three inmates presently incarcerated, Ivy, Two-Face, and Jonathan Crane, all looked up as she entered. Ivy immediately rushed over to help her, while Crane stood up, pulling out a chair.

"How you feeling, baby?" asked Ivy, kissing her cheek.

"Peachy keen, Red," retorted Harley, sitting down gingerly. "Thanks, Johnny," she said, nodding at Crane and smiling.

"Was it really Batman, Harley?" asked Two-Face, gently.

"Don't you call me a liar too!" snapped Harley. "Yeah, it was Bats! He wanted to know where Mr. J was, and I wouldn't tell him, so he beat the crap outta me! None of you should be surprised by that!"

"It just seems so barbaric," murmured Crane, gazing at her. "To do that to a defenseless lady…"

"Hey, if I'd been expecting it, I could've taken him," retorted Harley. "But it just came outta nowhere, y'know? Anyway, you know he's barbaric. He's a monster, just like Mr. J always said."

"Bats always thinks he's so high and mighty," growled Two-Face, flipping his coin angrily. "So much better than the rest of us! But I would never have done that to you, Harley. Shoot you in the head, yeah, maybe, if you asked for it. But torture you like that? It's just wrong."

"As if you don't get enough pain from J," said Ivy, stroking her hair back soothingly.

"That's completely different!" snapped Harley. "That's consensual! There's a huge difference between a gal submitting to being beaten and a guy just thinking he can beat a gal to a bloody pulp without asking permission! Mr. J knows I'm ok with him doing that. I wasn't ok with Bats doing it. I just feel…violated. I mean, I know Mr. J always enjoys a good beating from the Bat, but I don't want anyone hitting me but Mr. J. It just don't feel right."

She shook her head and sighed. "I'm sick of talking about it. What's on TV, Red?"

Ivy flicked on the news, where Jack Ryder was reporting live from a pile of smoking rubble. "…costing the lives of nearly 800 people. From the smiling faces of the victims whose bodies have been recovered, and from the mocking laughter played on a tape recorder just outside the site, it seems obvious that the Joker was behind this act of terrorism. We just wonder where Batman was, and why he failed to stop him. I'm Jack Ryer, reporting live…"

"Good," interrupted Harley. "Serves Bats right for trying to beat the info outta me. 800 people dead - I hope they all come back to haunt him."

"Bet he feels like crap this morning," muttered Two-Face. "Failed to save hundreds of people and beat up a woman. I hope he's in a lotta pain."

"I hope so too, although it can't be worse than the pain I'm in," snapped Harley. "The dumb jerk. What the hell kinda game does he think he's playing? He's meant to be the hero, ain't he?"

"I believe he thinks that as long as he doesn't kill anyone, he remains a hero," replied Crane. "His deepest fear is becoming what he fights against, after all."

"Well, he's become a lot like J if he's taken to beating up Harley," snapped Ivy. "They're the same type of monsters in my head."

"Hey, don't say crap like that!" snapped Harley. "The shrink will think you can't tell the difference, just like she thinks I can't! It was Bats that beat me up, you got that, Red? Bats!"

"Sure, Harley, I never denied that…" said Ivy, surprised.

"Then you keep not denying that," retorted Harley, standing up with difficulty. "I'm getting a nap. That is if I'm not in too much pain to sleep. The lousy, stupid, dumb, stinking bastard," she muttered, hobbling to her cell. "When Mr. J busts me outta here, we're going to have a long talk about him seeing Bats again. It would serve the jerk right if Mr. J didn't wanna see him no more. I know I don't."

She shut the door to her cell and faced the mirror. "I look like crap!" she shouted, ripping off the bandages and wincing. She rolled down her sleeves to cover most of the bruises, but her black eye was still really obvious, and Harley went over to the sink to rinse it.

She was startled by a sudden explosion as her wall caved in. "Harley, Daddy's home!" chuckled a voice she recognized.

"Mr. J!" she breathed, rushing into his waiting arms.

"How ya doing, kid…where'd you get the shiner?" asked Joker, his smiling face clouding in confusion.

"Long story," retorted Harley. "And I don't feel like telling it right now. I'm just so happy to see you, puddin'!" she breathed, kissing him. "Did you miss me?"

"Wouldn't have busted you out if I didn't," chuckled Joker, lifting her off her feet and carrying her away from the asylum as the alarm echoed behind them.

"Heard about your bomb on the TV, baby, great job," cooed Harley, ruffling his hair.

"Yeah, it was a real blast, Harl," he chuckled. "And Bats didn't even show, if you can believe it. All that hard work and effort and he didn't even turn up. I was surprised. Don't get me wrong, it was nice to have a little uninterrupted mayhem, but just kinda unusual, y'know?"

"Yeah," agreed Harley, frowning at the mention of Batman.

"Something wrong, pooh?" he asked.

Harley pointed at the armed guards rushing toward them. "I'll tell you in a minute, puddin'."

Joker sighed, putting her down, then turned and sprayed Joker toxin from his buttonhole. Then he turned around and picked up Harley again. She leaned her head against his chest as the sound of the guards' dying laughter grew fainter and fainter, safe and sound at last. No one but him could hurt her anymore.


	3. Chapter 3

"You should have seen it, baby!" exclaimed Joker, laughing as Harley made him a cup of hot chocolate on their return to their hideout. "One great, big, giant explosion lighting up the night sky like a Christmas tree! Aw, it was beautiful! And I actually got to enjoy it for once – y'know, normally I'm either running from or getting punched up by the Bat, but like I said, he didn't show, so I really got to savor the fireworks this time."

Harley had been smiling at seeing him so happy, but her smile fell again. "Yeah. Wonder why he didn't turn up, Mr. J," she murmured.

"Who knows? Maybe he decided he'd take a night off from the whole Batman thing. He certainly deserves it, he works so hard all the time. Gotta admire his dedication if nothing else. The guy really pours his whole heart and soul into this superhero gig. Imagine being that obsessed with something – no wonder he's crazy."

He chuckled. Harley didn't, placing down the mug of cocoa in front of him. "He's a true artist, though, Bats," continued Joker, pinching her cheek affectionately as he drank. "I just adore watching him work, even when I'm on the receiving end of the violence. The way he just hurts people effortlessly – he makes it look so easy and so good! You gotta respect that, pooh, even if you don't respect why he does it."

"Sure, Mr. J," murmured Harley, feeling her own bruises stinging. She gazed at him tenderly, knowing she could never tell him the truth about her injuries. It would break Mr. J's heart to think about Bats as a common thug. She could never hurt him that much. Better that she just suffer in silence and hide them as best she could until they healed, and never mention it.

She resolved to do just that, but she really was in a lot of pain, so bending down to kiss him, she murmured, "Just gonna go get a bath, puddin'."

"Hmm? Oh yeah, fine," he retorted, reaching for the newspaper. "Aw, and I made the front page and everything!" he chuckled. "Thank you, Bats!"

Harley left him laughing to himself, feeling tears come to her eyes. She entered the bathroom and filled the tub with water. Then she stripped off her clothes and sank slowly into the bath, wincing as the hot water covered her numerous bruises. None of Mr. J's beatings had ever hurt this much. She hoped Bats didn't show up and try to bust them, because she wouldn't be very good in a fight against him. And she was in no mood to see him anyway.

She looked down at her body, which she thought rather glumly resembled a dalmatian, with all the big black spots. The thought would normally have amused her, but she was in too much pain to appreciate the joke. And it wasn't the good kinda pain, the kinda pain she had after a night of violent passion with Mr. J. It was just unpleasant and horrible, and she just wanted it to stop.

The door to the bathroom opened. "Just thought the hair could use some more brylcreem, pooh…" began Joker, but he stopped and stared at her in shock. Harley's arms instinctively went to cover herself, but he slowly approached her and drew her arms away, stunned as he glanced at her damaged body.

"These ain't mine," he murmured, running a finger gently along her bruises.

Harley shook her head. "Who did this to you?" he whispered.

Tears came to Harley's eyes. She should lie to him. She should say no one, that she had fallen down the stairs or something. But she had never been able to lie to him, not when he looked at her with those beautiful eyes, demanding the truth. "Bats," she murmured.

He struck her sharply across the face. "Don't you lie to me, you little brat!" he shouted. "Why would Bats do something like that to you?!"

"He thought he could make me tell him where you and the bomb were," murmured Harley, her tears falling. "But I didn't tell him. Mr. J. I would never squeal on you like that."

He stared at her in astonishment. "You telling the truth?" he whispered.

She nodded. "He gave you that shiner too?" murmured Joker, pointing.

She nodded again, and sobbed. He stared at her, his jaw tightening. Then he turned and stormed from the room. "Puddin', where you going? Puddin'? Puddin'!" cried Harley, struggling out of the bath and throwing on her robe. She rushed after him down the hall. "Puddin'…" she began, but he whirled around, seizing her wrist and making her gasp in pain.

"He don't damage my property!" shouted Joker at her, angrily. "Nobody damages my property but me, you hear me?!"

He struck her across the face again, and then began beating her furiously. "This is my right!" he shouted. "Mine! Only mine! These are my bruises, you get that, you dumb bitch?! Bats don't have the right to hurt you the way I do! You understand me?!"

"Yeah, puddin'," gasped Harley, in agony. "I didn't want him to…I didn't…I...it hurts so much, baby!"

He stopped beating her immediately, dropping down to his knees and cradling her in his arms. "Aw, baby," he whispered, embracing her tenderly and planting gentle kisses on her face. "Baby, baby, baby. Don't cry. C'mon, pooh, it's ok. You're safe now. Safe home with Daddy. And he ain't gonna let that horrible, mean, old nasty Bat touch a hair on your pretty head. Not ever again."

"Oh, puddin'…" breathed Harley, putting her arms around his neck and clutching him, her eyes shut tightly and spilling tears. "Puddin'…"

He kissed her softly. "Shh, baby," he murmured, picking her up gently. "Don't speak. You've been through hell, kid. But it's over now. And don't you worry. We'll make Bats go through hell too. He thinks it's really funny to beat up my Harley girl, but I ain't laughing. And when I ain't laughing, bad things happen, pooh. Real bad things."

Harley gazed up at him in adoration. "Oh, Mr. J," she whispered. "I love you."

He kissed her again and carried her into the bedroom. "Got a joke for you, kiddo," he murmured, grinning as he climbed on top of her. "Stop me if you've heard this one."

"Go on, Mr. J," whispered Harley, raising herself to meet his body and his kisses.

"What's black and red and bloody?"

"Me, Mr. J," replied Harley, beaming.

He chuckled. "Yeah. But what else?"

She thought. "Dead Bat?"

He giggled, kissing her again. "Not just a dead Bat, pooh bear. But everyone close to the Bat, too. Everything he cares about in the world, in a big, bloody, battered pulp!"

He laughed hysterically, and Harley shut her eyes in delight as she pulled him down to her. It was a great joke. She couldn't wait to see the punchline.


	4. Chapter 4

"Sir, it's been three days. You really must eat something."

Batman stared at the screen in front of him, playing footage of the Joker's bomb, ignoring Alfred. "Sir?" pressed Alfred. "Sir, please. The death of those people was not your fault."

"He didn't give me anything to work with, Alfred," murmured Batman. "Or maybe he did, and I just didn't see it. Maybe there was something I missed, something really big, something I should have seen. Maybe I'm losing my touch. Those people shouldn't have died just because I made a mistake."

"They didn't," retorted Alfred. "They died because the Joker planted a bomb. Their lives are on his head, not yours."

"I wish I could believe that, Alfred," murmured Batman. "I don't like thinking that I failed. But I did. I'm meant to be the hero, I'm meant to save people. I'm meant to be the hero," he repeated, quietly.

"You are a hero, sir," replied Alfred. "But you are not superhuman. And to err is human. It's nothing to be ashamed about."

Batman shook his head. "I have plenty to be ashamed about," he murmured. "You don't know everything, Alfred. I…I sank to his level."

"You could never do that, sir," retorted Alfred, firmly. "Batman will always be superior to the Joker. Always. He has never taken a life."

"That's the only criteria, is it?" murmured Batman, trying to rationalize it to himself as he had done a thousand times. Quinzel was a violent criminal. And she was used to pain. He was just doing whatever he had to. But he shouldn't have sunk to _his _level. Where would that end? There was a line he shouldn't have crossed. He crossed it in attacking Harley. And he knew he'd regret it the rest of his life. He shook his head. "No, I'm not a hero, Alfred. Not anymore."

"Whatever mistake you may have made, sir, it can never erase all the good you have done for the people of this city," said Alfred, sincerely. "You have made a difference for the better. There are not many people in this world who can truly say that."

"He didn't give me anything to work with," repeated Batman. "No, he must have. He always does. That's the way he operates, with jokes and gags…" He scrolled through the computer, combing over the recent case notes, just as he had been doing for the past three days. "I must have missed something. I must have. Unless he wanted me to do it, unless he thought that was really funny, unless that was one of his jokes, making a hero do something like that…making him choose between hurting a group of people or just one…"

"What have you done, sir?" asked Alfred.

Batman was silent. "I…I attacked Harley Quinn in her cell. I wanted her to tell me where Joker was, and when she wouldn't, I…I beat her. I had to know, Alfred, and she wouldn't tell me. It was the only way. And in the end it didn't make a difference. She didn't tell me. I became a monster for no reason."

Alfred looked at him steadily. "You'll forgive me for saying this, sir, but Miss Quinn isn't exactly what you might call an innocent. And I imagine she is used to all manner of pain."

"That doesn't make it right!" retorted Batman. "She didn't deserve that!"

Alfred was silent. "If you had managed to save those people, sir, would you have considered Miss Quinn's beating to have been worth it?"

Batman nodded slowly. "Yes."

"Then you have nothing to be ashamed of," retorted Alfred. "You did what you had to do at the time. Being a hero is about making tough decisions. You wouldn't have regretted your decision if fate had been kind. Don't regret it just because fate decided not to cooperate this time. It was not your fault. You did everything in your power to stop it. No one could have done more."

Batman was quiet. He opened his mouth to respond when suddenly the screen, which had been playing the TV news, suddenly went fuzzy. When the picture returned, it was of a purple shape, blurry and indistinct.

"Focus, Harley. Focus. That button there, you dumb blonde! Jesus, it's like you've never operated a television camera before! There you go, that's better!"

As the picture came into focus, Batman saw the Joker's smiling face grinning at him as he waved from the screen. "Greetings, Gotham! Joker here! I apologize for this interruption to your regular broadcast schedule, but I have an urgent public service announcement which should only take about five minutes. Please don't change the channel – it's important. And you won't be able to anyway as I've jammed all other channels. You could always get up and get a snack, but the kitchen's so far away from the TV, and the couch is just so comfortable, isn't it? Besides, this is for your own safety."

He cleared his throat and read from a piece of paper, as slow, dramatic music began to play in the background. "Over the past several years, a persistant menace has plagued Gotham City. Nobody knows how or why or where he came from, and many people have just accepted his evil presence in this city, turning a blind eye to the damage he causes. But it's difficult to ignore the facts in plain numbers. Over the past five years alone, this figure has cost the taxpayer approximately $1.5 billion in property damage, $6.8 million dollars for the upkeep of so-called lunatics in Arkham Asylum, and a whopping $98,000 for the electricity bill of his little signal. And most recently, we have experienced a sharp increase in the number of Random Bat Attacks, or RBAs. RBAs can happen anytime, anywhere, to anyone. Typically 1 in 5 people will experience at least one RBA over the course of their lives, but these figures can be higher depending on the individual. Unlucky citizens will typically be minding their own business when they are spontaneously assaulted and beaten to a pulp by a freak in a flying rodent costume. We have with us here today a recent victim of an RBA, my own adorable little Harley girl. C'mon over here, pooh bear, show the folks at home your shiner," he said, gesturing.

Harley appeared next to him a moment later, taking off her mask and revealing her black eye. "The makeup's done a good job covering a lotta the bruises, but as you can see, my precious little baby just don't look her normal, carefree self," sighed Joker. "Tell 'em why that is, pooh."

"Because Batsy beat the crap outta me for no good reason!" snapped Harley, glaring at the camera. "You watching this, Bats?! If you are, I hope you feel guilty as hell, you evil bastard! I hope Mr. J finds you and rips out your insides and slices your face off, you goddamn, heartless, son of a…"

"That's enough, pumpkin," interrupted Joker, clapping a hand over her mouth. "As you can see, the poor, sweet, innocent angel is a nervous wreck, forever scarred by an experience she did nothing to deserve. Seeing my little girl like that was the final straw for me. It's time to say enough is enough. It's time we, the free citizens of Gotham, fought back against this vermin and exterminated it. Let's make this the year we stop the Bat. How, I hear you ask yourselves? How can we ever be free of such a terrible, clinging stain upon our fair city? Well, don't worry, folks, Uncle Joker will handle it all. All you have to do is sit back and watch the fun. Now Bats," he said, smiling at the camera as the music stopped. "I know you can hear me, so open your pointy ears and listen good. You can't just go around hitting women – that's my job, and I'm not going to let you take it away from me. I don't appreciate other people trying to imitate me, but I want you to know how it feels. So I'm going to hurt you. I'm going to hurt everyone you care about, one each day, until you stop being the bad guy and start being the hero. You know what that means, Batsy? That means no more hiding in the dark, no more lingering in the shadows, and no more mask. That means you come into the light, take off the mask, and admit you're a bad guy. When you get tired of seeing your friends beaten to a bloody pulp, we'll arrange a time and a place for your unmasking. Until then, it's a Bat friend a day put into intensive treatment. Who will I attack first? The Boy Blunder? The Bat-dame? Gordon? Kitty? You can't protect all your little helpers, can you? And even if you try, I can always turn my attention to innocent citizens. I'm a flexible guy, y'know."

He chuckled and the music started up again. "So join me, Gotham, in ensuring that the Bat's reign of terror comes to an end. Join me at a time and place to be determined for his unmasking. I'll be in touch, don't worry, just as soon as Batsy calls me. If you have any questions, or would like to make a donation to the initiative, please call 1-800-555-STOPBATMAN. Because there's nothing funny about random violence."

He turned and punched Harley in the face, then laughed hysterically. "Oh wait, yes there is!" His face became serious again as he said, "Please stop the madness. Stop Batman now. Thank you."

He shoved Harley into the camera and the signal went dead. Batman stared at the screen for a moment, then turned to Alfred. "I think we're going to need to make a few phone calls," he murmured.

"Very good, sir," said Alfred, heading for the stairs.


	5. Chapter 5

"So lemme get this straight, Bruce," said Robin. "The Joker's threatened us, and so you think the best thing for us to do is…nothing?"

"I just want you lying low for a day, Dick," retorted Batman. "He's very unpredictable at the moment, even for him, and the thought that anyone close to me could come to harm because of my actions is something I'm not prepared to deal with right now. I want you to stay here while I hunt for Joker. You'll be safe."

"What about my dad?" asked Batgirl.

"I'll be keeping an eye on him personally, don't worry," said Batman. "But I have faith in Jim being able to handle himself. Anyway, he refused to come. Said he wouldn't let the Joker frighten him out of doing his job and protecting this city."

"But you're ok with Joker frightening us?" demanded Robin.

"Look, Dick, I'd just rather be safe than sorry at the moment," replied Batman. "I've had a bad couple of days…I just don't want anything else to happen."

"Because you don't trust us," retorted Robin.

"Because I'd rather be safe than sorry," repeated Batman. "Please just try to understand."

"Oh, I understand, Bruce," snapped Robin. "You wanna keep me and Barb here because we're kids, but you'll let grown-ups like Gordon and Selina handle themselves…"

"Because they won't listen!" interrupted Batman. "And you don't have to either! But just don't blame me if something happens, because I'll already be blaming myself!"

He stormed into the Batmobile and drove off, hands shaking in fury. And it wasn't just rage at Dick. He understood his frustration. It was mostly anger at himself, for failing to stop the bomb, for beating up Harley, and for…for wondering if the Joker might be right. Maybe he had turned into the bad guy. Maybe he had lost sight of what was important. Maybe he was losing his touch – he had never failed that badly before. Maybe the best thing for him to do was to stop being Batman, before other innocent people got hurt because of him…

His eyes narrowed in resolution. No. No, if he was going to stop being Batman, he was going to do it on his own terms, and not in some silly game for the Joker. He would stop him, and then he would consider if Batman was still a benefit to Gotham. Or if he actually did more harm than good.

After all, would the Joker keep playing these games if he didn't have Batman to play with? The Joker was motivated by a sense of fun, and it probably wouldn't be fun for him to match wits with ordinary policemen. And if the Joker got bored, would he stop? Or would he just widen his circle of terror to amuse himself? Probably the latter. Yes, maybe Batman encouraged the Joker's antics, but he also prevented him from unleashing them on different targets. As long as Joker's attention was focused on him, fewer innocent people could be hurt by him. At least, that's what Batman told himself. That's what he had to believe.

But deep down, he wondered suddenly, was he just doing this because he enjoyed the game too? Was he really any better than the Joker? Or was he selfish, like him, fighting with him night after night because it amused him, because it gave him a personal challenge, a strange, powerful thrill? Did he do it because of some need deep inside him, for some kind of odd personal fulfillment? And did that make him a bad guy? A hero was always selfless, always acting for the greater good. If he discovered that all this wasn't for the greater good, could he honestly live with himself? Or would Batman have to disappear?

"Sir," said Alfred's voice suddenly, over the Batmobile's system. "I think you might need to turn on the television."

Batman snapped on the TV screen to see Joker's smiling face once more. "Hi Bats, it's me!" he said. "I hope you're watching, because I need your help. I found this poor, lost, stray kitty just wandering the streets, and I'm wondering what I should do with her."

Batman's heart plummeted in horror as the camera zoomed in on Catwoman, tied to a chair, struggling against the ropes, as Harley Quinn leaned against the chair, waving at the camera. "Y'see, Harley and me aren't cat people," he said, approaching them. "And so we can't really keep her. But then I hate to take her to the pound – I hear they put down kitties there, and it would be a shame to kill such a cute little thing."

He patted her cheek, and Catwoman suddenly lashed out, biting his hand. Harley shrieked and ripped her away, but Joker just laughed, and then suddenly struck Catwoman hard across the face. "Bad kitty!" he chuckled. "If you're not going to play nice, then neither am I. See, she's a wild stray, Bats, but I guess I'll have to take the time to train her. You know how to train animals, Bats? I'll bet you do. I'll bet you had a puppy or something when you were a kid. You remember how you had to keep it in line? Discipline. Harsh, firm discipline."

He reached for a wooden bat. "Join in when you want, Harley girl," he said, grinning at her. "Kitty needs to be taught a lesson. Oh, and just a warning to our more sensitive viewers, the footage you are about to see contains graphic violence and may be upsetting, so please look away now. Except you, Bats. You need to keep watching, because in a few minutes a number's gonna flash up on the screen, and you need to dial it if you want the violence to stop. Otherwise we're gonna beat her to within an inch of her life. And believe me, it will be an inch."

He chuckled, then seized the bat and smacked Catwoman across the face with it. Harley joined in with her hammer, and Batman watched in horror as they struck blow after blow. Hearing Selina scream was torture to him. After an agonizing few minutes, a number flashed across the screen, and Batman wasted no time in grabbing the phone and dialing it.

Harley paused to answer it. "Hello, you're through to Stop Batman HQ. Oh, it's for you, Mr. J," she said, handing it to him.

"What an unexpected surprise. I wonder who it could be," said Joker, puzzled, stopping his beating and taking the phone from her. "Hello?"

"Stop it now, Joker!" snapped Batman.

"Aw, but Batsy, the fun's just beginning!" chuckled Joker. "Don't tell me you're not enjoying it – I know you must get off on this kinda stuff. Why else would you go around knocking the stuffing out of people if you didn't get some sick joy out of it?"

"Just leave her alone!" demanded Batman.

"Oh, it hurts, doesn't it, Bats?" murmured Joker, quietly. "It hurts to have your little toy busted by another kid, don't it? Well, maybe you should have kept your hands off mine."

"Tell me what you want me to do," hissed Batman.

"Oh, it's not about what I want, Bats," murmured Joker. "It's about what you want. Do you want to do the decent thing and be the little hero and sacrifice yourself to save a damsel in distress? Or is Batman more important than this stupid woman? Is your cause more important than one dame, or has this particular dame blinded you to everything else? If it comes right down to it, do you believe in the greater good, or the individual? I guess it depends on how hot that individual is, huh?"

"Tell me what you want me to do," repeated Batman.

"I want you to come here, to me," said Joker. "I want you to stand in front of that video camera and take off your mask and tell the whole world that you're not the hero anymore. That you've given up doing good for Gotham all for this little kitty cat. I want you to tell the people that everything you ever fought for was a lie, a lie that you've stopped believing in now. Because let's face it, Bats, you try to control the chaos, but y'know what? If you believe the scientists, the whole universe is chaos! The universe is on my side, Bats, and you've been fighting a losing war. Time to surrender."

Batman was silent. "Or, y'know, you don't have to," continued Joker, shrugging. "I think Kitty can stand a little more pain. She has got nine lives after all, and I think we've just reached the edge of her third one, so there's a few more to go. Personally I don't blame you. There are more important things in the world than women, am I right? I know I am. Tell ya what, you stay there, and I'll get rid of the Kitty for you, how's that? I'll remove her from your life so you'll never be troubled by her ever again, and she won't get in the way of your hero stuff. No need to thank me – I'm just happy to help out a friend in need!"

He chuckled, about to put down the phone. "Wait," murmured Batman.

"Still here, Batsy!" chuckled Joker. "You hang up first!"

"I'll be there in ten minutes," muttered Batman, hanging up the phone.

He watched Joker on the TV, grinning as he turned to Harley. "This is our lucky night, pooh!" he exclaimed. "We've got a very special guest on his way to the studio! The Caped Crusader himself!"

"Aw, gee, Mr. J, and here we are without a welcoming present!" sighed Harley.

"Oh, I think we can have a few surprises ready by the time he gets here, don't you, pumpkin?" asked Joker, smiling. "What are commercial breaks for?"

He turned back to the camera. "Don't go anywhere, folks, we'll be right back after these messages. And trust me, you don't wanna miss this ending. It's gonna be a real doozie!"

The camera clicked off to the sound of his mocking laughter.


	6. Chapter 6

"Come on in, Bats, and take a seat!" said Joker, beaming. "Ladies and gentlemen, it's the Dork Knight himself!"

Canned applause played as Batman entered the studio. Joker was seated at a desk and gestured to a chair next to him. Batman saw Harley in the audience, holding a gun to Selina's head, and obeyed, sitting down next to Joker.

"It's so great to see you again, Bats!" exclaimed Joker. "If I'm honest, I'm gonna really miss being able to chat with you, but all good things must come to an end, I guess. So I think the folks at home would all like to know, whatever inspired you to dress up in a bat costume and randomly attack people? Childhood trauma involving bats? Or Halloween costumes? Or did you just see one too many Dracula movies?"

Batman didn't respond. "Aw, Batty's not in a chatty mood!" chuckled Joker. "That's too bad, we wouldn't want to bore the audience. If we lose their attention, they might have to find other ways to entertain themselves, isn't that right, pooh?"

"Sure thing, Mr. J," replied Harley, grinning as she tasered Catwoman.

"I wanted to stop crime," muttered Batman.

Joker laughed hysterically. "Stop crime?" he repeated. "What, like permanently? That's the craziest thing I ever heard! That's as insane as declaring a war on terror! You think you can stop people being bad, Bats? And people think I'm the one who's crazy!"

"You are," retorted Batman.

"Am I?" said Joker, grinning. "Let's let the viewers at home decide that one. I think if they really think about it, they'll agree with me. Let's just take a random example. Our sidekicks, for instance. Who's yours? The Boy Blunder. Some snot-nosed, whiny teenage brat in a goofy-looking costume. And who's mine? A little blonde knockout in a skintight catsuit. So which one of us is the crazy one there, I ask you? And now let's examine our motivations. I do things because I like to have fun. It's a fairly meaningless pursuit, casual, nonsensical, like life. But your motivation is…is…you wanna stop crime!"

He laughed madly, wiping tears of joy away from his eyes. "I mean…I mean…c'mon," he gasped. "You mean you can't see that it's a futile effort? You mean you actually think you do some good? Aw, Bats, you're killing me! Stop crime! Here's one for you, why don't you stop the tide? Or maybe stop the sun from rising, how about that, Bats? Other things you can waste your time and effort on after you give up this whole superhero gig!"

He kept laughing, and Batman just glared at him. "But…but…let's not take my word for it, Bats!" gasped Joker, trying to recover himself. "I ain't a psychiatrist, so I can't certify you as nuts. But fortunately my Harley girl is! She's certainly done a great job examining my mind, and a few other places besides," he giggled. "Give her a round of applause, ladies and gents!"

Harley Quinn appeared on stage to canned applause, with a labcoat over her usual costume and wearing glasses, with her hair done up in a loose bun. Batman looked to see that Catwoman was still being guarded by a henchman. But maybe she could take him if she could get free…

Harley bent over and planted a kiss on Joker's lips, then took a seat next to Batman and pulled out a pen and paper. "So, when did these hero delusions begin to manifest themselves?" she asked him.

Batman didn't respond. "Roc, little motivation, please!" called Joker to the henchman.

Catwoman was tasered again. "Thank you, puddin'," said Harley, grinning at him. "I'm just interested, Bats, did this messiah complex manifest itself recently or have you always thought yourself superior to others? When you were a child, maybe? Did you come from some sort of privileged background that made you think you were better than the other kids?"

"I just want to help people," growled Batman.

"And that zealous desire has blinded you to the real harm you do people," replied Harley. "In your head you're helping people, but look at the reality. Look at my face. Look at all those dead bomb victims. You know why Mr. J killed them? Because of you. Because he expected you to show up and save them. They'd still be alive today if not for you. So go ahead, repeat to me what good you do for people."

"Stop trying to twist it like that!" shouted Batman. "Joker killed those people! He's the bad guy, not me!"

Harley looked at him pityingly. "Oh, Batman, you really must stop seeing the world in this black and white way. Good guys, bad guys, it's childish. Nobody else thinks that way, not even the people you fight. You've got the brain of a six year old in a body with the strength of six men. It's only going to lead to trouble, unless you're stopped."

"Your diagnosis, Dr. Quinzel?" asked Joker, grinning.

She grinned back, and then made a face, twirling her finger around the side of her head. "Completely cuckoo, Mr. J!"

"As I suspected," he sighed. "Well, Bats, you can't argue with the facts. Harley's just the best little shrink I know. Now why don't you do your last heroic good deed and face that camera? I mean really face it. Show Gotham its true hero."

"Don't do it, Batman!" shouted Catwoman. "Don't let them win!"

"Shut it, Kitty, or I'll have you spayed!" shouted Joker. "Go on, Bats. You know it's the right thing to do, don't you?"

Batman glared at him. It wasn't the right thing to do, he felt that. But he had done things that weren't right before. Beating up Harley – that hadn't been right. But did doing that one wrong deed completely erase all the good he had done? If he had done any good. Maybe Joker was right. Maybe it was all a pointless struggle, meaningless, as meaningless as trying to stop the sun from rising…

But he was Batman. He lived in the darkness. Maybe he couldn't stop the sun from rising, maybe daylight was inevitable, as inevitable as evil. But that was all the more reason to seize the night.

"This mask is the face of Gotham's true hero," he murmured. "It's Batman."

"Wow, started referring to yourself in the third person, huh?" asked Joker, whistling. "You really are nuts, Bats. Well, Joker isn't pleased to hear you're going to be uncooperative. And when Joker isn't pleased, bad things happen. Hey, you're right, it is kinda fun!" he chuckled. "Like playing a game of Simon Says, only better! Roc, Joker says kill the Kitty."

The henchman cocked the gun. Batman leapt forward, hoping he would be able to reach her in time.

He didn't. But someone else did.

The henchman was hit by a shape flying into him, and Batman was surprised to see another one land on Harley. As they both straightened up, he saw that it was Robin and Batgirl.

"We're just experiencing some technical difficulties, folks, thanks to a rodent infestation," said Joker, standing up and smiling. "But stay tuned – the show's far from over."

Harley suddenly struck Batgirl with her hammer. "I'm sick of freaks in bat costumes knocking me around when I ain't done nothing wrong!" she shrieked. "Just get a life, you losers!"

Robin leapt to Batgirl's aid, kicking Harley in the face and making her drop her hammer. "How about freaks in bird costumes?" he asked, grinning.

"Think same goes, Birdy Boy," murmured a voice behind Robin. He was suddenly hit across the back of the head with a bat. Joker laughed hysterically, but stopped abruptly as an electic shock shot through him. Catwoman had found the taser dropped by the henchman, and shocked him again.

"This is an absolute pleasure, it really is," she hissed. She kneed him suddenly in the groin, doubling him over.

"You leave him alone, Selina!" shouted Harley, backflipping into Catwoman and knocking her away from Joker. "You ain't gonna damage him and ruin my dreams of having little Arleen and Joker Junior!"

Batman ripped Harley away from punching Catwoman and threw her to the ground, handcuffing her. "Why don't you beat me up some more, you sick freak?!" she snapped, glaring at him.

"He won't," murmured Catwoman. "He's not a bad guy. He's a hero."

She lay a hand on Batman's shoulder and smiled at him. "I, on the other hand, am not," she continued, her smile dropping as she struck Harley a blow to the face that knocked her unconscious.

They approached Joker, who was still doubled over. "Just gimme a second," he said, raising a hand. Batman held Catwoman back, and Joker suddenly grinned.

"Psych!" he shouted, spraying gas from the flower in his buttonhole. Batman and Catwoman coughed as he rushed to the window. "Jesus, Bats, you really just fall for it every time!" he chuckled. "Guess you are the bad guy after all – you're really dumb, and you always lose!"

"Wrong again, Funny Boy," snapped Robin, dropping down from the window and kicking Joker in the face. "We wouldn't follow a bad guy."

Joker reached for his gun, but Batgirl knocked it from his hands, kicking him backward right into Batman and Catwoman, who both punched him simultaneously, knocking him out.

Catwoman turned to face the camera and grinned. "Show's over, folks," she murmured, turning it off. "Nothing to see here."

"Are you ok?" asked Batman.

She nodded. "Thanks for coming to rescue me, but I had it under control. Same goes for the Boy and Girl Wonder."

"How exactly did you have everything under control?" demanded Robin. "From where I was standing, you were gonna die!"

Catwoman grinned, then retrieved the gun from the ground. She pulled the trigger, and it clicked. "I stole the bullets earlier," she murmured, tossing it to the ground. "And I had nearly clawed through the ropes. But like I said, thanks, Junior."

She circled the bodies. "So what are you gonna do with these two, Bats?"

"Take them back to Arkham, as usual," sighed Batman. "Robin, Batgirl, give me a hand."

Catwoman lay a hand on his arm. "You could always…not," she murmured. "You know they're just gonna break out and cause more mayhem. Wouldn't it be better to stop the madness now? Permanently?"

"I won't kill them, Selina," he murmured.

"I'm not asking you to," she replied. "You wouldn't have to do it, or know anything about it. All you'd have to do is walk away."

Batman looked at Joker and Harley and slowly shook his head. "Sorry, Selina. A hero can't just walk away. Guess that's the point, really. I guess that what makes a hero. You have to keep fighting, no matter how futile it might seem. You can't just give up."

Catwoman shrugged. "Fine. Don't blame me when it happens again."

"I won't," he replied. "Because I'll be there to stop it next time. And the next time. And the next. As long as it takes."

She grinned. "Ok. Anytime you wanna stop committing yourself to the criminals and the freaks and start committing yourself to an incredible woman, you give me a call. See you later, handsome."

She kissed his cheek and sauntered off. Batman stared after her, torn for a moment.

"Bruce? What do you want us to do?" asked Batgirl, gently.

"Help me get them in the car," replied Batman firmly, turning back to her.

"You ok?" asked Robin.

He nodded. "Thanks for ignoring my orders, by the way," he said.

"Lucky for you we did," retorted Robin.

"I'm sorry if that sounded sarcastic," replied Batman. "I meant it sincerely. Thanks for ignoring my orders. I do make mistakes sometimes. It's good to know that I have people around me who will do the right thing even when I'm wrong. I can't ask for more than that."

He turned and walked off. "Did he just thank us?" asked Batgirl, increduously. "For real?"

"I guess," replied Robin, shrugging. "Enjoy it, Barb. It's probably as close as you're ever going to get to him saying he appreciates us. Or that he isn't perfect."

"Hey, at least he admits it," said Batgirl, grinning. "Let's be grateful for small blessings."


	7. Chapter 7

"It was Catwoman," said Harley, firmly. "Well, Catwoman and Robin and Batgirl, actually. Bats was innocent this time, although he did throw me to the ground."

The psychiatrist looked at her. "Harley, I think we've been over this. I know you may blame others for your injuries, but the truth is they were inflicted by the man you love…"

"They sure as hell weren't!" shouted Harley. "Stop saying that! I'd love it if they were from Mr. J! I'd think of each bruise as a diamond! These are from freaks who had no right to touch me! Don't I get any kinda compensation from being randomly beaten up by weirdos? Because it ain't right! The world's a pretty messed up place if people just let crap like this go on and don't do nothing about it!"

"You're the only one who can stop this cycle of violence, Harley," replied the psychiatrist. "You have to stand up to your abuser and say you're not taking it anymore, and then be firm. Don't go back to him."

"It…wasn't…Mr…J!" hissed Harley, enunciating every word.

"You may not see it as him," she agreed, nodding. "But as I've explained, your subconscious mind is so enslaved to him that it manifests a delusion…"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, fine, whatever," interrupted Harley. "Can I go now?"

"Our time is almost up, but I'd like to check up on you again next week…"

"Yep, sure, Doc, see you then," said Harley, standing up and striding from the room. She made her way back to her cell, wincing, and was surprised to find a bouquet of flowers there, with a note attached reading _Feel better soon – Batman_.

"The dumb jerk," snapped Harley. "He thinks flowers are just gonna forgive everything, does he?"

She went over to the mirror and angrily began brushing her hair, but her eyes slid back over to the flowers. "Still, it's a pretty bouquet," she murmured to herself. "Nice of him to take the trouble, really."

"Harley!" shouted a voice. The door to the cell opened and Joker entered. He too was covered in casts and bandages, and winced as he walked. "I've been calling you for the past ten minutes, you dumb…"

He paused, eyes narrowing when he noticed the flowers. "What the hell are those?" he demanded.

"Flowers," she replied. "From Bats."

"What's Bats doing sending my girlfriend flowers?" demanded Joker. "I don't send flowers to his Kitty."

"Aw, puddin', don't be jealous," said Harley, hugging him gently. "Anyway, maybe you should send Selina some flowers. You did beat her and try to kill her, after all, and the tasering can't have been pleasant."

"It sure as hell wasn't," muttered Joker. "But you're right, pooh, maybe I'll send her a nice bouquet scented with Joker toxin. Just as soon as we bust outta this dump."

"Might be a good idea to wait until we're healed," replied Harley. "I'm not sure I could take the guards in this condition."

"Yeah, you and me both, baby," he sighed, sitting down on her bed. "Well, as temporary arrangements go, it's not so bad. And tonight's taco night in the cafeteria."

"Aw, you just love your Mexican food, don't ya, puddin'?" sighed Harley, sitting down next to him and snuggling against his shoulder.

"Oh, sure, it tastes fine," he replied. "I mostly like the way you can snap off bits of the taco so the edges are serrated and then use it as a weapon, though. Might try to give Pammie a few cuts – should be a laugh."

Harley beamed at him. Using food as a weapon – only her special puddin' would think of that. She kissed him tenderly and then cuddled him gently. "Y'know, puddin', I know being stuck in this joint ain't ideal, but I sure as heck don't mind being here when you are. As long as we're together, anywhere is perfect, even this dump. I just need my bad guy with me, and I'm in heaven."

Joker grinned at her, then knocked the vase of flowers on the ground, shattering it. He held out his arms. Harley squeaked in happiness and buried herself in them. "There's only one bad guy for you, baby," he murmured, kissing the top of her head. "I guess Bats will just have to stay a hero."

**The End**


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